December 15th, 2023

 I've been doing Jumbo Claus for thirty years. Those first kids that I visited are in their mid thirties now. Last night I went to a Presbyterian church that hosted families that were facing tough times.

The children were invited with their grandparents because their parents are dead, incarcerated or addicted to drugs. The church had 12 to 15 families with 30-40 kids.

I don't know who was more happy to see Santa.... the children or the grandparents. The kids were shy at first, but warmed up quickly. I had a couple kids that were on the spectrum that I bonded with quickly.

It was a shy girl in her teens that worried me. She was there with her grandparents. Grampa had a nervous smile and Gramma was on oxygen. The girl had dark eyeliner and bleached hair. She was wearing a sweatshirt from a local high school drama club.

She didn't want anything to do with Santa Claus, but when I asked her about drama, she warmed up. We talked about comedy and tragedy and how the stage parallels life. I told her to keep the theater in her life. It will help her find her voice and give her balance.

When I was leaving their table, Gramma lipped the words "Thank you Santa."

I hope Gramma saw something that I didn't. Because to me, I thought I left a confused and sad little girl sitting alone with her tired grandparents.

I woke up this morning and thought about that little girl, I daydreamed that she won a Tony Award and thanked Santa Claus for pushing her to stay on the stage. Then I prayed that she just makes it through the Christmas season.

December 14th, 2023

 I’ve been staring at this Chalkboard for some time now thinking of what to say on a Thursday morning.

It’s the week before the week before Christmas. All I’m thinking is… let’s just get to Christmas and everything will be all right. Then New Year’s is the next week and once we get to that…. everything will be better.

The thing is…. Nothing is going to be alright and nothing is going to get any better. Sometimes the holidays are like kicking the can, punting the ball… we tend to push our troubles to the side these last few weeks of the year.

Tonight I’m going to be Santa for close to fifty children. Tomorrow night I’m going to drink pints with lads I’ve known for nearly forty years. Unfortunately, all I’m thinking about is the phone call that I received Monday morning from DCFS.

I should be excited to share the love of Jumbo Claus. I should be excited for the annual gathering of The Wild Turkeys, but I’m not.

Not only did I get the call on Monday… yesterday afternoon a school counselor called.

So that brings me here, staring at the Chalkboard. Usually when I get too personal on this daily journal, you usually see the sentence…

....“I just erased several paragraphs of crap.”

Today, I’m not erasing the crap. Christmas and New Year’s Day won’t make any problems go away.

I’m going with 8 out of 10 of you Chalkheads are in the same situation. Maybe that number is too extreme?

Probably not.

We all have some sort of shitshow brewing in the backroom. I thought I could leave the shitshow west of Mannheim Road, but it always boils over east.

Then I think that the shitshow will finally go out of business when the youngest Shepkid turns eighteen.

Just like Christmas and New Years, that eighteenth birthday party is an illusion. I can wrap presents and pop the champagne, but after the last Christmas song on 93.9fm is played… life’s shitshow will still be waiting.

It could be health issues, employment issues, financial issues or family issues. We all have something lurking in the shadows of the Christmas tree lights.

So go ahead and kick the can, punt the ball!

Enjoy the love and magic that Christmas always brings. Be encouraged by the promise of a happy new year.

I’m going to make fifty kids happy tonight and I’m going to laugh and sing with ten guys in their late fifties tomorrow.

Everything always works out when you get straight F’s in live…. Always!

FOUNDATION: FAITH, FAMILY and FRIENDS.

December 13th, 2023

 Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike… Humpday!

Today’s quote comes from a song that plays during the closing credits of one of my favorite Christmas Movies…. Do you know it?

I’m enjoying this El Niño December so far…. Get yourself over the hump and let’s slide into the weekend.

December 12th, 2023

 I saw a post yesterday that said my last boyhood idol is lying in his deathbed.

Since I was a boy in the Seventies, it’s about right that the last athlete that I emulated is at that age today.

Not many people know that I’m an Indiana Pacer fan. I never supported my hometown team, the Chicago Bulls. Even when they were winning championships in the nineties… I was the only fan of the Blue and Gold in Cook County.

I’ve been with Indiana since their ABA days in the early 1970’s and my favorite player was George McGinnis.

George Mac, big number 30 was my guy when everyone else worshiped Bob Love of the Bulls.

Along with Dick Butkus who just joined Heaven’s defensive squad recently…. The Pride of George Washington high school will be the last of them.

Joining Willie Stargell, Walter Payton and Keith Magnuson. That was my Mount Rushmore of sport icons when I was a kid.

A scrappy defenseman for the Blackhawks, the best running back in Chicago Bear history, a Pittsburgh Pirate, the man who put the monster in the Midway and an ABA player born and raised in Indianapolis.

I don’t have any baseball players from the two Chicago teams, but I do have two Bears and a Blackhawk.

I wish I still had the ABA ball that my Aunt B. gave me fifty some odd years ago.

Oh and one other thing…. In the Nineties…. I followed Reggie, not Michael.

December 11th, 2023

 It’s Monday….. we have us a big old smile on the sun today.

A little more Billy Shakes for the Chalkboard this morning. His eloquent way of saying that having two horrible choices doesn’t make for an easy decision.

When this happens you better hope you are out of the way when the shit hits the fan.

It is one thing when you make a bad decision, but when all avenues lead to a dead end…

…turn around and smash through the road block.

No guts, no glory or in Latin, Non Sine Gloria or Not Without Glory. Mondays take bravery, courage, and initiative to get to Friday.

December 10th, 2023

 I woke up on the couch at seven o’clock this morning. Today’s chalkboard will be simple and sweet.

It is looking like the perfect day to look out the window at a cloudy December Sunday. Make cookies, wrap some presents and watch Christmas movies.

I put a season countdown in my grabber section this morning. Winter hasn’t even started yet and I’m counting the days until next spring and summer.

I’m running out of days of living and I’m already looking into the middle of next year.

So much opportunity awaits over this coming winter. There can be days of comedy approaching and possibly days of tragedy.

I’m going to post the first hard thing I had to memorize in my freshman year of high school. Something by Billy Shakes….

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.”

Let’s hope my Winter of ‘24 isn’t like Macbeth.

I’m going into 2024 with the hope of a light hearted Shakespeare comedy. Maybe something from “The Tempest.”

“Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits and

Are melted into air, into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.”

The only reason I ever read Shakespeare’s “the Tempest” is because I liked the 1982 movie by John Cassavetes. A young Molly Ringwald was in it and a young John Shepley had a crush on her.

To conclude this Chalkboard before I continue to go nowhere….

…the winter will bring some cold. It will bring a couple polar vortexes. It might bring some tragedy and it might bring comedy. Like every winter…. Just weather the storm, get paler, add a couple pounds and keep windshield wiper fluid in the trunk.

December 9th, 2023

 It’s early on a rainy Saturday morning and I wrote down a quote about passion and purpose?!?!

What was I thinking?

I think I’ve become passionate about getting up early and writing every morning. It gives me an opportunity to clean up life’s challenges and difficulties. The Chalkboard also lets me open up with stories that define the journey that I have taken.

Will the chalkboard ever have a purpose outside of four or five hundred hits a day on the blog?

I think it already has….

I can see it on comments that are made both on Facebook and on the Chalkboard website.

I found out that I recently was blocked on Facebook because of the story I wrote about my father’s dear friend who was Jewish. The purpose of telling that story was to point out why I support Israel. I didn’t realize it would weed out a Chalkhead.

Yesterday a very good friend told me about a lifelong friendship she has with a Muslim college classmate. Her purpose was to show me that there are good people out there. This friend chose to help me be a better person rather than block me. Thank you KFP….

The day will come when I grab the chalk for the last time. Maybe it will be like the last time I put my baseball glove on my handlebar. I didn’t realize that day was the last time I’d play a pick up game of baseball at the park.

If I’m lucky the date on that last chalkboard will be in the late forties or early fifties. It will be after that final blackboard when my passion and purpose will have been realized.

Back to this Chalkboard…. Today isn’t the day to worry about the purpose of life. Today is a day that should be full of passion.

Passion for Faith during this Christmas and Hanukkah season. Passion for family and friends as the year comes to an end. Passion for the simplicity of a Saturday morning.

A trip to the gym, a run along the Prairie Path, breakfast at the diner, grabbing the papers at the newsstand, a bike ride on the Monon, going to the grocery, a walk down the river or just sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee listening to Orion Samuelson’s weekly farm report.

My passion today will start by hearing,

“good morning dad, what’s for breakfast?”

I’m going to watch the Army versus Navy game because after that last chalkboard… I want this annual football game to be one of the things the Shepkids remember me being passionate about.

…..And being Jumbo Claus. I love being Jumbo Claus. That reminds me… I better get my suit out today so it’s not wrinkly.

December 8th, 2023

 I’ve always thought that a sport coat can be worn a couple times before you bring it to the cleaners. There was a time in my life when I’d grab my blue blazer out of the closet and find a few cocktail straws in the pockets.

At this stage in my life I’m finding more funeral cards in my once worn jackets.

It’s just the way life goes….

Young people go to weddings and older people go to funerals.

Yesterday morning when I was going through sport coats to wear for a funeral, I found a couple prayer cards. I went with a brown tweed that was still hanging in the cleaner’s bag. Next time I wear it to an event, I’ll find Ed Bergmann’s funeral card.

The picture on the card was taken by George last summer in the Camera shop they often visited. On the back is the big boy of prayers, the “Our Father.” Under the picture with a smile and a golf cap is 9/25/41-11/11/23.

I stared up at this last paragraph for a minute before I started writing this one. The dates of a life always have a special meaning to me when I look at them. That birthday, the dash and then the death.

I started going to family funerals as a child. Great grandparents, great aunts, older third cousins…. Those dates were ancient, 3/9/1893-5/15/1980.

As I got older I’d come across a funeral card, 6/17/1913-11/27/1991 and then occasionally there were the unexpected ones for those who died young, 7/16/1975-4/25/1994 and 7/25/68-9/11/01.

Now I’m in the period where I’m seeing the dates from my parents generation, 8/3/1937-5/6/2016 and 11/16/1935-10/03/2020.

I need to wear a sport coat out when I get a couple cocktails, so I can start finding more straws again.

Today is the day we celebrate the Immaculate Conception. Basically it’s when Jesus’ mom finds out she is pregnant. As a young Catholic kid I could never figure out what was going on.

I was learning that mommies took about a year to have a baby. The Blessed Virgin Mary had an angel tell her on December 8th that she was going to have a baby and she’s giving birth to Jesus a couple weeks later? In a barn?

This doesn’t make any freaking sense Sister Mary Francis Irene!

We have weddings, cocktail straws, funerals, prayer cards and virgin births here today on the Morning Chalkboard.

Let’s not forget we started Hanukkah last night. I’ve got to figure out if I light my menorah before or after I light my Shabbat candles tonight. It’s very confusing to be a Judeo-Christian, Cafeteria Catholic.

Add dreidels and Maccabees to the list of weddings, cocktail straws, funerals, prayer cards and virgin births.

We have it all covered on the Friday Chalkboard. Unfortunately you’ll need to put your own smile on the sun today. I have clouds up on the board.

I do have a double nickel up for the high today. I’ll take that on the 8th of December every year.

We have Zoo Lights and “The Bishop’s Wife” this weekend. Army versus Navy and Shepelinni pizza as well!

Have a lush weekend and work on that dash between the dates. Keep making your hyphen longer with good health and happiness.

December 7th, 2023

 I stared at this chalkboard for five minutes trying to come up with a subject for Thursday, December 7th, 2023.

It’s going to be fifty one degrees today. Fifty One is one of my favorite numbers. It’s actually a favorite number to many Chicagoans born before 1970.

Today’s quote is credited to Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. We can spend hours discussing how this sentence can apply to our lives. I will take just thirty seconds to determine how to interpret the message for my life.

Get up off your ass and move along…. Everybody is watching, nobody cares if you’re having a bad day. They will react to how you handled falling down. Be graceful and strong. Set an example on how to conquer adversity.

If I did the math correctly… we have nine hours and sixteen minutes with the sun today. Take advantage of every second.... I put the smile on the sun, so we have that going for us.

I think the most important thing on today’s chalkboard is in today’s grabber section. That is the name I call the bottom right hand corner.

Sometimes I put scores in there, sometimes countdowns of days until annual events. Today I wrote down a historical occasion. Always known as a date which will live in infamy. It was the day the Japs attacked The United States of America.

Never Forget............... December 7th, 1941

I forgot to write down that today is the beginning of Hanukkah. I’m a Cafeteria Catholic that lights a menorah and spins a dreidel. Last year I spun a hey and won half the pot. Hopefully I don’t roll a nun or a shin this year. If I roll a gimmel I’m going to Manny’s.

Enjoy the sun today. Be kind.... unless some prick in a Tesla wants to cut in front of you on Ogden Avenue. Make him eat your gas fumes.

December 6th, 2023

 Yesterday marked the third heavenly birthday of a kid I knew from Indianapolis. This guy had a rough go of things during the last few years of his life. His health was poor, but he kept going.

Our friend didn’t just die once. He died several times before he finally found eternal rest. During one of his brief visits with death, he met the Holy Spirit.

Our friend came back from heaven with a detailed description of their conversation.

Seems the third part of the Holy Trinity takes this forgiveness crap pretty seriously. My Oldman always said that we were one forgiveness away from eternal peace and Wags did a recon mission to determine that forgiveness is a fact.

It is true….. We must forgive and forget if we want to drink beer with the deceased.

Everyone that wronged us. Everyone that we wronged… two simple words, “I’m sorry.”

Wags made a point of telling us all not to wait until you are knocking on heaven’s door. Do it today!

Yesterday I told a story about George going to church. Here is another story that takes place in a church because of George.

It was a final rehearsal for George before he received his First Communion. The coordinator asked all the parents to take confession and live by example for their children.

So I went up to confession that night for the first time in years. Definitely the first time since nine eleven.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It’s been a long time since my last confession.”

Father nodded his head and urged me to continue. Oh yeah, this was a face to face confession.

“Fader, I hate Muslims.”

The priest had a horrible expression on his face. He wasn’t expecting a bombshell during the rehearsal ceremony for First Communion. He just realized he had a serious confession to hear.

I’m sure I probably lost a couple Chalkheads after that last paragraph, but these are the examples I need to leave in script.

I’m not going to be able to see my parents. I’m not going to be able to pay Wags back all the beer I owe him. I’m not going to be able to see Louis Armstrong and Billie Holiday play The Heavenly Auditorium. I’ll never be able to play that round of golf with President Nixon, Walter Payton and Jesus.

Unless I empty the hatred from my heart over this islam deal!

You know something…. I’ve never been personally wronged by mohammed and I've never gone out of my way to hurt him. I’ve just never been able to like him since a young age. Since the iranian hostage crisis. Through that Tuesday in September of 2001 and continuing into last October outside of Gaza.

I don’t hate my ex wife who is a pain in my ass everyday. I don’t hate the fans that like the professional football team in Wisconsin. I don’t hate the guy who wrecked my moped in high school. I don’t hate the guy who flipped me off yesterday when I wouldn’t let him cut in front of me.

But I have some hate and that will keep me out of heaven. I’m going to end up in the same place where the virgins are waiting for the martyrs.

Pretty heavy Chalkboard today.

Remember, this whole project was started and continues as a therapeutic exercise for me. Something that has also sprouted into a therapeutic tool for many of my friends.

I’m not perfect and I’m sure it confuses the shit out of the Shepkids, but hopefully when the last Chalkboard is posted… I’ll be able to drink beer with Wags and go to the diner with my dad.

Happy belated birthday John. Thanks for coming back from heaven and verifying one of the mysteries of our faith.

December 5th, 2023

 There is a funeral this week in the same church that I was married in. Many of the people that will be there Thursday were at that wedding. It will probably be the first time many of them will be together again at that church.

My son George was asked to do a eulogy at this memorial funeral for his grandfather. Last night I went into his bedroom and asked him if he was getting prepared.

He replied, “I’m just going to wing it dad…”

“I’m going to talk about how genuine PopPop was. I’m going to mention how much he loved and took care of everyone. I’m going to make sure people know that he will be missed.”

“I think that will nail it perfectly,” was my response.

He asked me what I would say about PopPop if I was doing a eulogy…

….Ed Bergmann left a huge model train board in his basement. The collection began with the original transformer and steam locomotive given to him when he was a boy. Every Christmas he would treat himself to a new train. From freight to passenger, modern to antique….. The Bergmann Railroad is a magnificent collection.

He found joy in showing railroad to anyone and everyone, but he never let anyone touch the power. He also didn’t let anyone remove or replace locomotives from the shelves to the tracks.

His wife couldn’t touch them. His two children couldn’t touch them and the maid wasn’t allowed to clean or dust the area.

One day Pop was running the “City of New Orleans” along the tracks with a three year old George Shepley.

His grandson noticed a signal and a light wasn’t working at an intersection in the middle of the board. The grandfather said that it hadn’t been working for awhile and was too hard to reach.

George climbed off of his plastic step stool and crawled under the tight quarters below the railyards. I was watching and listening from the other room where the television and family room was located.

“Be careful down there George, don’t touch anything!”

I could see George was already jagging around with wires underneath. This wasn’t going to turn out well. I was about to get yelled at to grab my son.

Suddenly Pop yells out, “Oh George! What have you done?”

Muffled from underneath the toddler replied…. “I moved a couple things around Pop.”

“George…….. George Shepley! You fixed it, You fixed it ...thank you George!”

Relief came to me when I realized my son didn’t break anything.

That was the day George earned PopPop’s trust. From that day forward the two of them were thick as thieves. George was the first and only co-engineer on the Bergmann Railroad.

Since that day, George has taken freight trains off the board and replaced them with passenger trains. He has taken off diesel locomotives and put down steam locomotives. George has put the fallen trees back up and people laying along the platform that have also fallen after years of neglect.

This will be the first Christmas that PopPop won’t be around to pick the train. George will have to pick what passenger line runs on the Christmas Express.

I look back at that day… it was around that time we discovered our son was given an incredible gift. Seeing the world through the spectrum. PopPop showed us how lucky we were to have such a beautiful son.

It will be a gift Thursday morning to hear a grandson talk about his grandfather. This passing was the first major loss for George. The first of many….

It was truly a gift to see those two enjoying that train collection together.

I can only imagine how elaborate the train board is in heaven. Nobody can touch it until the day a grandfather and his grandson unite.

Not even Jesus or Casey Jones.

December 4th, 2023

 My dad and I went to breakfast for years together on Saturday mornings.

Looking back… it is probably one of the greatest joys of my life. I don’t have that tradition quite yet with any of my children. I went to the diner both mornings this weekend alone.

My dad and I were always regulars wherever we went. The waitresses, the cooks and the owners all knew the gregarious father and son. All my dad had to do when he ordered was say, “burn, burn and burn.”

The waitress would know my dad wanted his toast, his bacon and his hash browns well done…. But he always had his eggs over easy.

Burn the crap out of everything, but barely cook the eggs?

That’s how my dad rolled….

Then suddenly he started ordering his eggs scrambled. Eventually ordering just the burned breakfast without any eggs.

A couple times at the end of his egg run he pulled the car over to the side, got out and vomited. Eggs were making Big Don sick. He blamed it on old age, but I’m sure it was something else and he was just hiding it from me.

I thought about my dad’s egg story out of the blue…

Yesterday, George and I put up the tree and the decorations. It has been custom for me to have my famous JumboNog during the tree trimming.

This year might be the end of the eggnog and Christmas tree relationship!?!?! The first one didn’t go down well, so dumb ass here tried a second one just to see what the hell was going on.

I found out that JumboNog doesn’t smell good after it lands in a toilet bowl.

I was trying to do the math in my head and I concluded that my dad’s love for eggs with his breakfast and my love for nog on tree day both happen around the same time in life.

I brushed my teeth, threw some water on my face and cracked open the last BuckleDown in the icebox.

I got right back out there and finished putting decorations up on the tree. Correcting the clump of ornaments that George put on one side while I was praying to the porcelain.

I thought about the last time I put ornaments on the tree with my dad. I thought about the last time I put ornaments on the tree with PopPop. They both loved trimming the tree and they both had their way of doing it.

George learned yesterday that I have my own way of doing it as well. When we finished the job, I turned to George and told him we are going to breakfast together next Saturday.

I can’t give up on the JumboNog just yet… I bought a gallon of Oberweiss….I am not letting that go to waste.

Happy Monday Chalkheads…. After a gray and rainy weekend, I think we are going to be able to put the smile on the sun today.

December 3rd, 2023

 Maybe I’m a stick in the mud, BUTT…. I think Advent Calendars should only be for ages 3-10.

The purpose of an Advent Calendar is to give children an idea on the importance for the arrival of the Christ child. It should build up an anticipation throughout the Christmas season for children.

Unfortunately today everyone gets to participate in this children’s event. Marketing executives have a wet dream on all the financial possibilities Advent can bring.

Beer Advent Calendars, wine Advent Calendars, fancy chocolate, gourmet coffee, pet treats, jewelry and the one that gave rise to this morning’s chalkboard, The lingerie Advent Calendar.

Do you really think Baby Jesus wants you to prepare for his arrival with a garter belt and a teddy bear nightgown? The December 24th window probably has edible underwear in a candy cane flavor.

Though I did receive the best Advent Calendar from my dad when I was in my late twenties. Well out of my prescribed age range of 3-10.

It had an old village on the cover. Every tab was a window on a building in the town. The 24th window being the church. All twenty four windows had the same piece of candy inside. The candy that I associate with my Oldman, the York peppermint patty.

My dad would let me wait in the car when he went inside White Hen. He’d go in and get the Sunday Trib, a box of Entenmann’s donuts, a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. When he’d open the door of the car, he would fling a York with the flip of his wrist….. Landing it perfectly on my lap.

I know a couple of you probably went to Costco and bought a craft beer Advent Calendar. Enjoy your IPA on December 12th and your Pilsner on the 17th.

I’m going to be the Cafeteria Catholic that I am and light my first candle tonight on my wreath. Today’s purple candle symbolizes “Hope.” The hope of anticipating the arrival of the Messiah.

If you’re stopping by White Hen later today, can you grab me a York peppermint patty and a KayO?

December 2nd, 2023

 I wrote this quote down thinking I could come up with a motivational chalkboard today. Then I sat down and thought about the first weekend of December and the magic that it brings.

I thought about this weekend through my eyes when I was a child. This weekend reminds me of a new winter coat. It reminds me of gloves and hats and scarves. I always loved getting a new winter coat as a child. It gave me a sense of pride and security just like my parent’s love did.

I thought about this weekend through the eyes of an early teen. Layering up in sweatshirts and hats and gloves and heading to the park. The cold ground layered with icy grass and frozen mud chunks. Knees and elbows and palms falling to the ground as you bash around with the neighborhood kids. Playing in the first football game after last week’s TurkeyBowl.

How satisfying it was walking in the back door and having your mom tell you to take all of those dirty clothes off. Followed by a hot shower, hot chocolate and watching Christmas classics before dinner. The late afternoon sunset suddenly amplifying the glow of just the television and Christmas tree across the frunchroom.

I thought about this weekend through the eyes of a young man meeting the crew at the neighborhood tavern. A college basketball game on one television. A college football game on the other and Carols playing on the jukebox. Drinking beers and talking about football games in the park when we were kids.

I thought about this weekend with the eyes of a young dad pushing a stroller through a crowded Christkindle Market. Holding a German beer in one hand and a baby bottle in the other one. Looking at the sparkle of Christmas lights reflecting off my child’s eyes.

This is a weekend to enjoy the fresh crisp air of late autumn. A time to stare at the newly hung lights and daydream of sitting on Santa’s lap and asking for “The Duke” and a baby brother.

It’s a Saturday to run errands and pop in the pub for a pint. It’s a Saturday to energize your soul with the magic that family and friends and faith bring.

Make an eggnog, hide your pickle ornament, call an old friend, call a new friend, pick up a box of chocolate covered cherries at Walgreens and think of days that make you smile.

Tits up you gorgeous Chalkheads…we got us some Holiday magic to create this weekend…..

December 1st, 2023

 Fritz asked me what my three wishes would be if I encountered a genie in a bottle.

My first wish would be to speak and understand every language in the world. This would let me communicate with everyone that I encounter.

The second wish granted would put one thousand dollars under my pillow every morning.

This is where Fritz asked me why wouldn’t I just wish to be a billionaire . At which I replied that billionaires have to work hard watching their money and when they die they lose it all. Never seeing how it is spent.

A guy that has just a thousand can do immediate good and see how his money is spent everyday. A guy with a thousand can change the world on a smaller scale and still have some cash for a rainy day.

My final wish is a little more powerful. I would like to be able to turn ugly things into beauty.

I would like to be able to look at a pile of garbage and turn it into a rose bush. If I saw an abandoned parking lot… I could stare at it and turn it into a prairie. Where there are weeds on Wednesday would be a tree or bush on Thursday.

I could get on the CTA and just look out the window and beautify the city of my birth. This gift would give people more hope if they woke up in a neighborhood with more nature and less concrete.

All three of my wishes are humble and unselfish. Probably because I’m closer to seventy than I am to thirty. 1990’s Jumbo would have taken the billion, asked for a bigger shwantz and have a big wedding with Julia Roberts.

2020’s Jumbo would be able to speak with everyone in the world. Take them out to a good meal and buy them something they need.

…..And I could do this on a daily basis without seeing graffiti on the side of a building. Without seeing fast food wrappers in the gutter and in a town with less abandonment and more recovery.

My question for Fritz was what kind of genie do I get. The Robin Williams genie from “Aladdin” or the Barbara Eden genie from “I dream of Jeannie?”

If you see me having lunch this weekend speaking Mandarin with a stranger and you ask yourself, “Has this tree always been here!”

You’ll know that I got my wishes….

Today is Rosa Parks day. Am I embarrassed that I live in a country where a black woman was forced to the back of a bus seventy years ago?

I am, but I’m more embarrassed that Jews are still living with antisemitism on a daily basis.

I’d like to be able to turn on WGN in the morning and not hear about a Kosher Pizzeria in Skokie having swastikas spray painted on the facade.

That is where my thousand would come in handy. I’d drive up to the northside and hopefully be able to order a sausage and cheese pizza at EJ’s Pizza. (Can you get a sausage and cheese pizza at a kosher pizzeria?) Then leave a nine hundred and seventy dollar tip to go towards the repairs. Speak Yiddish with the owner and then walk along Dempster turning ugly into beauty.

I can do all of this and still drive Betty the Green Blazer to work.

November 30th, 2023

Linus took his blanket and wrapped it around the base of Charlie Brown's Christmas tree. Suddenly it transformed into a lush and bright display.

There is nothing wrong with having a Linus blanket. Something that gives us comfort and security. A lucky coin, a picture in your wallet, a locket, a lucky rabbit's foot or a religious metal.

Maybe going to the gym, or church or a walk in the woods gives you comfort and security. Writing the Morning Chalkboard has given me a sense of comfort.

Today is running late because I hemmed and hawed on the subject. I'm going to keep it short. It is the last day of November. It is Saint Andrew Day and it is Joe Costello's birthday. Over thirty years ago I made a "Joe Costello Birthday Dance." Thank goodness it was before cellphone cameras.

November 29th, 2023

 Yesterday was brutally cold and long, but it’s already Humpday. The weekend brings in December and the first festivities of the season.

Let’s have a good finish to November. Make sure to fill up your windshield wiper fluid today….

November 28th, 2023

 Waking up at 12:30 in the morning after an already long and exhausting start to the week isn’t good.

Like taking the keys away from someone who has been drinking. I should probably hand the piece of chalk to someone else. This is going to be a bitter and anxious entry to The Morning Chalkboard.

I have a job that I take too seriously. I’ve missed three days this year. One for a court date with Miss Hinsdale of 1995. She didn’t even show up. The second one was for a stress test and heart evaluation and the third day was to take care of a sick child. I would love to take a fourth, fifth, sixth day and walk a path without repetition.

I have a beautiful son that has been with me everyday for the last two years. In those two years he has spent about six hours with his other parent.

He keeps me grounded…. sometimes that’s a good thing. Most of the time I just worry how I’m going to prepare him to use his own wings. His feathers are arranged in a pattern that clash across the sky.

I try to leave politics and bitching out of this blog, but those last couple paragraphs sure sound like a crybaby at work.

I just humped a long Monday for someone else who at the end of the day tried pissing on my leg.

Oh shit… there I go bitching again…

It’s now almost 2:30am and I still can’t get to sleep. I’m up for the rest of this cold Tuesday.

I’ll be making breakfast and lunch for my Georgie Boy in about ninety minutes. I’ll shit, shower and shave…. Then off with Betty the Green Blazer to my trading floor in a building in the suburbs. No train, no art deco lobby, no colorful trading jackets. Just a boring building with a duck pond.

That path that I mentioned up above before the last paragraphs full of complaints… It would be nice if it led to a cabin surrounded by pines. Maybe from the French Quarter to the Saint Charles Streetcar. I could go for a beignet and a cup of coffee right now.

This piece of chalk has been good therapy early this morning. Thanks for letting me give you a piece of my mind that hopefully leads to a peace of mind.

If I can get about 45 minutes of sleep before the alarm goes off. I’ll be good to go. I can sleep when I get to heaven.

Just keep on setting good examples and putting the smile on the sun…. That’s what today brings.